


i'm still comparing your past to my future

by minjilix



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, Implied Sexual Content, Lee Minho | Lee Know Is Bad at Feelings, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Lee Minho | Lee Know-centric, Light Angst, M/M, but especially butterflies, jisung calls minho "doll", mature warning is for all that but there isn't much, more like acquaintances in law to fuckbuddies to lovers or whtvr, of some kind, overuse of a Lot of words, soondoongdori are there for a second
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28591185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minjilix/pseuds/minjilix
Summary: "when was the last time you went out?" chan asks, because he's aware of minho's habit of locking himself inside his apartment until he physically needs to go out.he shrugs, but chan can't see him so then he says, "dunno."and that should have been it because chan never presses for more but then he says"i'm picking you up in an hour. get ready."and then minho meets the love of his life an hour and a half later in chan's disgusting bathroom.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Lee Felix & Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 17
Kudos: 226
Collections: Minsung





	i'm still comparing your past to my future

**Author's Note:**

> lowkey vent fic??? idk what this is tbh at this point im just puking words and letting them be. 
> 
> tittle from immortals by fall out boy 

it goes like this; chan invites minho to another one of his parties for the third time that month, and minho as customary, answers that he's too tired, or too busy, or whatever excuse comes easier at the moment. to which chan sighs, disappointment crackling through the phone speaker in the form of static.

"when was the last time you went out?" chan asks, because he's aware of minho's habit of locking himself inside his apartment until he physically needs to go out.

he shrugs, but chan can't see him so then he says, "dunno." 

and that should have been it because chan never presses for more but then he says

"i'm picking you up in an hour. get ready." 

and then minho meets the love of his life an hour and a half later in chan's disgusting bathroom. 

han jisung is someone who minho has heard of but never met, he's that one friend all his friends seem to have but minho is the unlucky one who always misses him during gatherings or casual encounters. 

_ oh jisung was just here _ 's when he comes in thirty minutes late, or  _ i just ran into jisung _ 's when they go out for coffee or dinner and minho has to go to the bathroom for what he swore was just ten seconds. 

point is, he's never met han jisung 'till now. 

after chan practically dragged him out of his house and into his own, booming with music and crowded with people who minho has only seen once or twice in one of his classes but that his oldest friend probably knows by name because he's just that sociable, minho decides to get drunk, or at least tipsy enough that he doesn't feel like burning off his skin whenever someone touches him for a bit too long. 

the kitchen is just as crowded as the living room and minho has to push through what he assumes are three drunk people trying to make out.

he lets out a sigh of relief when he successfully gets to the —punch? or more like fruit juice with a shit ton of vodka, same thing he supposes. 

he rinses a cup on the sink because who knows who the fuck touched it, and fills his cup halfway, wrinkling his nose when he brings it closer to his lips and the smell of almost pure alcohol fills his senses. it tastes disgusting, and minho hates it, but is the quickest way to put up with one of chan's parties. 

the music is so loud it makes the walls shake and minho wonders how chan hasn't been sued by his neighbours yet for disturbing the whole block. 

"well you look like you're having fun," someone says next to him, and minho turns to see felix smiling at him, platinum hair messy and cheeks rosy. 

"i sure am," he huffs.

felix chuckles, interlocking his arm with minho's "aw c'mon! we haven't seen you in almost two weeks, we missed you." 

two weeks? minho didn't think it had been that long since he last saw his friends. he barely has any grasp on time lately, it seems. 

he doesn't have time to voice this to his friend because someone collides with his shoulder, making him spill his drink all over his shirt and the floor, he groans, disgusted at the way his clothes are already starting to stick to his body. the asshole didn't even say sorry. 

felix laughs at him and minho shoves him away to make his way into the bathroom, slapping someone's arm away when they try to put it around his waist and drag him towards the center of the room where people are dancing—grinding more like—and making out.  _ sourpuss! _ he hears changbin shout at him, so he flips him off and walks faster.

the bathroom is disgusting, as it always is during the parties. the light flickers and sputters above minho's head, making a noise resembling that of a fly before it turns on completely. there's cigarette butts strewn all over the floor and sticky-looking stains on the countertop that he avoids touching just in case. 

the mirror is dirty and dusty and all he can see is a warped version of himself, there's a long crack running down the center of it and minho purses his lips at his split reflection. 

minho's not a party person, never has been, but chan is and chan is also his best friend, so that obviously means minho has to make some sacrifices. such as, staining one of his favorite shirts with disgusting fruit vodka and accidentally smudging his eyeshadow when he swipes a hand down his face in irritation. 

he's grumbling, complaining about the stupid party and his stupid friends, two seconds away from throwing a shampoo bottle at the lights as they start to flicker again when the door opens and in comes a stumbling and laughing han jisung, hair messy and shirt unbuttoned almost all the way. 

minho blinks at him, the light flickers once again and then burns itself out. jisung startles at his presence once he realizes there's someone in the bathroom.

"oh! sorry i didn't know someone was here," he's smiling, and minho doesn't feel as angry anymore.

"that's okay," he looks down at his stained shirt, resigning himself to its doom. "i was just leaving anyways," 

jisung nods, and they stare at each other for a few seconds more where minho admires the way jisung looks backlit by chan's colorful led lights and how his shirt is open enough for minho to see the sun kissed skin of his chest. and then he's pushing past the boy and hurrying over to the couch where he spots hyunjin scrolling through his phone aimlessly. 

minho spends another ten minutes with a sticky shirt and a sour mood before he decides to steal one of chan's shirts and then go home. 

the room is thankfully empty when minho pushes the door open, chan's bed is unmade and there's what could and might be a used condom but he ignores it and goes for the dresser. 

is funny, really, how it happens twice in a night. minho complaining to himself as he rummages through his friend's clothes and han jisung opening the door to the room. is almost the same, except this time minho is the one almost shirtless. 

"we have to stop meeting like this," is what jisung says, smiling to minho like they are close friends in on an inside joke and not barely acquaintances in law. 

minho huffs out a laugh, hand fisting a random shirt and pulling it over his head. 

"at least we are meeting," he replies. and jisung laughs, soft and warm and it makes minho want to bury himself under the disgusting pile of dirty blankets on chan's bed for some reason. 

"you're right. and here i thought you were a collective hallucination my friends were having." 

there's something in the way jisung is looking at him that makes minho feel self conscious, like he knows more about him than he should. which considering who their friends are, is entirely likely.

"well, i am very much real." 

"yeah, you are." 

the music is still thrumming through the house, shaking the walls and minho's core. jisung's eyes shine even in the dim light that comes from the old night lamp next to the bed and minho hands grip the hem of his—chan's—shirt. 

he notices now that jisung's shirt is buttoned properly and a small part of him is disappointed at the realization. he stomps it out and tries to listen to what jisung is saying.

"—o you have a charger? my phone died and chan is too drunk to tell me where his charger is," jisung huffs, waving his phone in the general direction of where chan is probably still drinking. 

"no, but i know where chan keeps his." 

the smile jisung gives him doesn't make his heart skip a beat. not at all. 

minho finds out three things that night; that homemade fruit vodka is disgusting and stains everything, that chan still has the keychain he gave him for his birthday when they were fifteen stored away safely with all his cables and nicknacks. and that han jisung kisses like he wants minho to remember the taste of his mouth for days to come.

jisung doesn't like parties either, he tells so to minho as he plugs in his phone and flops down on their friend's bed, ignoring the way minho makes a disgusted noise when he carelessly throws the, now confirmed, used condom somewhere in the room. 

minho is still standing there for some reason, watching as jisung throws an arm over his eyes and sighs. 

"i never said i didn't like parties," minho says, and the laugh jisung gives him in return makes something flip inside his chest.

"you didn't need to." 

at some point minho gravitates towards the bed until he's laying down next to the other boy, the sounds of the party continuing without them on the other side of the door serving as their own background music. minho thinks he doesn't mind it as much anymore. 

and there's something in the way jisung talks, how he enunciates the words, or how he turns his head and makes sure to look minho in the eyes, lips quirked in a mischievous smile as he retells the story of when he pranked seungmin for a week straight in retaliation for getting their laundry mixed up. 

minho can't help but laugh, mirroring jisung's smile, their shoulders brushing as they shake with their laughter. 

he talks, not really sure what he's saying, his mind more focused on the way jisung is looking at his lips and then back at his eyes, his breath catching in his throat when the boy hums and draws closer to minho.

jisung smells like mint and warmth, and he tastes like whatever drink he had before coming into the room. minho melts into the kiss and lets jisung pull him impossibly closer, arm slung around his waist before he's settling on top of minho, making himself comfortable in between his legs, breaking their kiss for just a moment before he's diving back again. his hands tangle in jisung's hair and then tighten when the boy nips at his bottom lip, licking it to soothe the ache and minho sighs as he opens his mouth and lets jisung in, loving the taste of him and the feeling of jisung's hands under his shirt.

minho is no stranger to hookups and one night stands, has done that plenty of times—just not during chan's parties, because the chance of seeing these people again is always too high for his liking. he never plans to stay more than one night, doesn't want to make them part of his life in any way, minho is not like that, he isn't looking for anyone special, content to stay inside his little bubble and let the world pass him by. 

so when the next morning he wakes up with the phantom feeling of jisung's fingers digging into his hips and his lips against the side of his neck, he knows he's made a mistake. 

sure, maybe he should've stopped and thought about it the moment it was happening, the fact that jisung was friends with his best friends wasn't lost to him as the boy kissed him. but—but he was distracted, hands under his shirt and lips on his neck he couldn't exactly analyze the situation. 

now he sits at chan's kitchen table, watching as his friend prepares breakfast for them and whines about his house being trashed as if he wasn't used to it every other week. 

"by the way," chan starts, handing minho a cup of coffee "who were you with last night?" 

minho had woken up alone to a cold bed, tangled in the sheets. he didn't mind, and wasn't expecting jisung to stay anyways. 

"no one." he takes a sip of his coffee and ignores chan's eyes. 

the only constants in my minho's life are his friends and the cat that sleeps on his balcony sometimes and yowls at him for a piece of his food. and he likes it that way, prefers it, even. 

he's never been good with maintaining relationships of any kind, doesn't like being held down or limited. it suffocates him, something akin to claustrophobia encasing him when the prospect of  _ staying  _ is brought up. 

his friends know this, have been made aware of his tendencies to run away when it seems like things are getting too serious or just, too  _ close _ . 

han jisung is not aware. 

felix takes him out for lunch because he says that he won't let minho disappear for another two weeks without at least catching up on their missed time. 

minho has nothing new to tell felix, and he says so to him when the boy asks if something happened lately, very obviously eyeing the hickeys on minho's neck that he didn't bother to cover up. but felix doesn't ask again and instead goes on a ramble about his new crush. 

when minho was thirteen he had a crush on his best friend, then his best friend said he was in love with a girl from their class and that's as far as minho has let himself feel that way for someone—felix is not like that, felix likes people a little too much, has a new crush every week and minho wonders if he really likes all these people or if he's looking for something he can't find in himself. 

he does not ask this, one because it'll probably upset felix and two because jisung calls out their names with a smile on his face and his bag slung over his shoulder. minho tries not to sink on his seat, and ignores the way his ears burn. 

jisung looks different under the natural light of the sun coming in through the shop's windows, his smile almost as bright and eyes reflecting every ray of sunshine minho's ever seen. it does nothing to calm the feeling of butterfly wings spreading through minho's body, and he looks away. 

"jisungie!" felix exclaims excitedly. 

han jisung is not aware that minho will most likely run away if he gets too close, he's not aware that minho is trying his best to ignore the way the sun shines on him like he himself is a stray ray of light. 

it starts like that, with felix moving aside to let jisung sit beside him and minho pretending he doesn't notice jisung's eyes trained on his neck and then on his lips for the duration of whatever short conversation they have. 

han jisung is not good at subtlety, nor does he give up apparently.

_ i invited the kids out for dinner. jisung asked if you were gonna come _

_ when did you two meet? _

reads chan's texts, sent a little before eight pm and interrupting one of minho's existential crises accompanied by the stray cat on his balcony.

_ we met at ur party lol  _

he doesn't answer the other unspoken question, and that in itself is enough for chan to know. 

is not that minho is avoiding meeting jisung again, he has no reason to do so—that's a lie but there's no one but himself to know it—nor has he avoided any other possible encounters with him. he just...needs his time alone. chan's party and the lunch with felix was enough for him for the next three weeks. 

the cat purrs against his hand and minho pretends he doesn't hear his phone vibrate with new texts from chan. 

a song minho doesn't recognize plays on the radio while he watches felix move around his kitchen.

_ 'cause i just want to show my friends what i have for them _

_ i have my whole heart for them _

"your fridge is empty!" he says, throwing a halfhearted glare in minho's direction.

he just shrugs, "i order take out most of the time," 

"that's unhealthy" 

"and you're annoying"

they eat the pasta felix makes in between lazy conversation and kicks under the table. 

minho feels content like this, albeit a little bothered by being interrupted from his nap when the younger boy arrived unannounced saying he came to try some new recipe on him but happy to have food nonetheless. 

he likes moments like this, normalcy with his friends. hang outs that don't include too loud music and strangers that smell of disgustingly sweet alcohol trying to put their hands on him. 

_ so why am i hiding in my room again? _

_ this always happens _

_ i'm afraid i've misplaced the strength to not give a shit _

"jisung asked about you the other day," felix starts, going for casual but failing. minho knows him too well.

"really?" 

"yup," there's a glint to his eyes that minho doesn't want to analyze "didn't know you were friends." 

"we are not, we just met at chan's party" 

"interesting," he laughs when minho throws a stray piece of carrot at him, and that's where the conversation ends. 

and if minho stays thinking about it for the rest of the night then that's just for him to know. 

minho's first ever boyfriend broke up with him because he just seemed 'too disinterested' in their relationship, said minho lacked personality—or something like that, either way he dumped him and started dating someone else from their dance team a week later.

han jisung gets minho's number from felix and proceeds to spam him with cat pictures. minho foolishly replies. and continues talking to him for a week straight. 

_ we are just texting _ , he tells himself,  _ and he's very persistent, _ he tries to reason. 

jisung tells him he's an interesting person, also calls him weird and cute in the next sentence. minho definitely doesn't hide a smile against his pillow. 

the thing about running away whenever the walls are closing in (or more like when someone tries to get close to him) is that his friends have gotten used to it by now. 

he could stop answering their texts for days on end and they'd just wait for his  _ i'm back _ message. they never push, but sometimes he can feel their worry in the way they'd hug him just a little tighter next time they meet. 

_ are u ok? _ jisung texts him after minho ghosts him for a week.

there's something akin to guilt brewing at the back of his ribcage but he tampers it down with the sound of the music blasting from his earphones and the sound of the city at night as he walks to the train station. 

his cats greet him loudly, yowling and purring and scratching his legs in excitement. his mom laughs and greets him with a kiss on the cheek and a too-tight hug. 

the only place minho's never ran away from in fear is his mother's house, and it is also the place he always comes back to. most of the time, at least. 

"there's a  _ you- _ shaped hole in this home always waiting to be filled again," his mom had said with fondness in her eyes as their cats ran around the room. "we always miss you." 

there's a picture of his dad on the wall of the kitchen that neither of them bothered to take down even years after he left. he doesn't know if it's a warning or a reminder, hasn't decided just yet.

they bake enough cookies at two am for him to take some home the next evening. his dad's dark eyes boring into him as he bags them and tells his mom he'll come back next month. 

"you're back sooner than i expected" changbin greets him at the door of their studio. 

"i brought cookies," is all he says.

_ welcome back. _

_ i'm glad to be back. _

chan doesn't notice his arrival until minho waves a cookie in front of his face, startling him enough for him to jump in his seat. he laughs, and chan pouts at him, swatting his hand away when minho tries to feed him a half eaten cookie. 

there's an empty seat and an open laptop that he knows doesn't belong to either of his friends. and he should go, should call felix, should go back to his apartment and maybe finish all the things he left half-done. 

instead he sits on the rundown couch changbin stole from his parents' basement and annoys him until the door of the studio opens.

"hyung?" jisung has three cups of coffee in his hand and minho smiles at him despite himself. "when did you get back?" 

_ how did you know i was gone? _ "today."

subtlety is a thing none of his friends have, they lack it just as much as they lack brain cells apparently. 

chan stares at him as jisung tries to make small talk, he pretends to be engrossed in whatever he's working on but every time one of them laughs he turns to them, eyes curious. he wants to tell chan there's nothing to see, that jisung and him aren't even friends, but then jisung is draping an arm around minho's shoulders and showing him something on his phone and he can't find the words anymore, too caught up in the way the yellow light from the studio reflects in jisung's eyes in small golden specs. 

jisung offers to walk him home and he, foolishly, accepts. 

the nights are getting colder each day and the flimsy hoodie he put on that morning does nothing to stop his shivers every time the wind picks up, so he huddles closer to jisung and tells himself it is because of the everlasting warmth radiating off of him. 

jisung doesn't ask him why he left or where he went, he simply tells minho about a stupid thing hyunjin did that he missed and absolutely needs to know so he can make fun of him too. their hands brush as they walk side by side, minho's fingers tingling where they graze jisung's skin, the urge to intertwine their fingers pulsating right beneath the skin of his chest. 

they stand on the doorstep of his apartment, jisung is smiling at him in a way it reminds minho of a summer night he tried to forget. 

"wanna come in?" his mouth moves faster than his brain "i still have a shit ton of cookies and videos of my cats doing weird shit." 

jisung laughs, soft and warm and his hand brushes minho's again when he steps inside. 

minho learns another three things; that jisung likes dori the most out of his three cats, that his favorite cookies are chocolate chip ones and that he laughs with his whole body, leaning into minho and clinging to his hoodie as his shoulders shake. 

the couch is barely large enough for the two of them, their legs are tangled with each other and so close minho can smell the slightest bit of cologne on jisung. it reminds him of that night, and he swipes to another video of dori trying to eat his socks to try and pretend like he can forget if he doesn't dwell on jisung's warmth. 

minho still remembers the taste of jisung's mouth, even after a month and some days apart. even after he tried to pretend like the butterflies in his chest were nothing more than a side effect of whatever was in that fruity drink. 

"last night i dreamt of you," jisung murmurs from where he's lying his head on minho's shoulder. 

minho doesn't dream that night, doesn't even sleep. jisung's hands map the same expanses of skin they did before and his lips leave minho trembling against his sheets. 

the next morning jisung is still there, tangled in his sheets and holding minho close to his chest even in his sleep. 

jisung's hand is right on top of his heart, and minho hopes he can't feel the way it's hammering against his ribcage in too-rapid beats. he tries to will it to calm down when jisung starts to stirr, arm tightening around him and lips brushing the back of his neck. 

"g'morning, doll," 

he can almost see the butterflies threatening to escape the confines of his chest when jisung plants a soft kiss on his neck, warm hands on his body and the sheets a mess in between their legs. 

"good morning…" 

_ i could tell the moment i saw you _

_ you’re something special _

_ i could feel it in your eyes _

_ i could feel my heart dropping  _

for some reason jisung is making breakfast and minho is letting him. watching as he clumsily moves around the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at the almost empty fridge and huffing out a laugh when all minho does is shrug in response. 

it's not domestic, there's absolutely nothing domestic in the way jisung moves around his kitchen in his slightly too big shirt while berating minho for having more coffee and cereals than actual food, or the way he sways to the rhythm of the song playing on the radio, doing some weird not accurate at all choreo while belting out notes that aren't even there. 

_ let’s start fresh, you and me _

_ the love i envy, please don’t let me down _

_ i’m going to show you how I’ve been feeling _

_ i won’t wait any longer _

minho laughs despite himself, head cradled in his arms where they rest on the kitchen table, butterflies around him as the light from outside shines down on them through the open curtains. the frantic flapping of their wings a sign of adoration—or fear, it's up in the air. 

the kitchen smells of toast and fried rice, and  _ home _ . it's warm and lived in in a way that it hasn't in a long time, despite felix's best intentions to make it seem like more than just minho's hideout. and maybe is jisung's laugh, or maybe is minho's own heart beating to the rhythm of the butterflies when jisung looks at him and smiles way more fond than he should considering they've known each other for less than four months and minho spent half of them avoiding him. 

_ wake from the dreams na na na navillera _

_ someday, you and i _

_ i hope we can _

_ build a future together _

_ you’re more than enough for me _

jisung seems to have never ending anecdotes about their friends that he so graciously retells to minho, and he listens, half delighted at new bullying material and half annoyed at himself for not having been there.

he can't remember the last time breakfast was that enjoyable. 

jisung stands on his doorstep for a little too long before he leans forward and kisses minho on the corner of his lips, barely there and rushed and then he's turning around and going down the stairs. minho's ears burn as he turns off the radio.

"what's it like to be in love?" 

"how should i know?" 

he shrugs, shoulder knocking against jeongin's where they lay on his carpeted floor.

"you're in love with hyunjin i thought you'd be able to tell me," 

jeongin scoffs, "i'm not—why do you want to know, anyways," 

there's a pattern on his ceiling that reminds minho of the flowers his mother always puts in the center of the table back at home.

"just curious," there's three unread texts from jisung. jeongin stares at him.

"is scary." 

when minho was six his dad left and never came back, the most he gets from him is a late birthday text or a holiday call when he's tipsy enough to remember the existence of his oldest son. his mother never talks about the bad times, doesn't take down the picture in the kitchen nor hides the memories minho has of him from when he was little.

"yeah, i can imagine." 

he names the stray cat living in his balcony 'ggyu', and proceeds to stop pretending like he hasn't adopted it months ago when it first came to cry for food. 

_ i got a new cat _ he texts jisung. 

_ is it the one in ur balcony _

jisung knocks on his door two hours later claiming he just came to see ggyu. which is a lie, obviously, because fifteen minutes later he's caging minho against his countertop and kissing him silly. 

there's an invitation to lunch after that which minho dazedly accepts and uses as an excuse to go change and avoid the breathless tone of jisung's voice along with the feeling of  _ fondness _ bubbling inside of him. 

they end up going to minho's old place of work, a small café-restaurant that serves the worst hot chocolate he's ever tasted but nails every food on the menu. his favorite coworkers are still there, working the same shifts they did two years ago, so when minho comes in he's immediately greeted by an overexcited cashier. 

"hi, minho-ah!" 

he's never really considered his coworkers as his friends, but they did so minho let them. the only one who's ever come close enough in his book was yewon, two months older than him and just a bit too nice for her own good. 

she beams at him now, her hair dark blue, a contrast to the dirty blonde she had the last time he saw her. jisung eyes him curiously.

"hey, yewon, nice to see you," 

yewon nods enthusiastically, her ponytail swinging with the movement and proceeds to take their orders. 

_ it's not a date _ , he tells himself,  _ it's just lunch _ . 

jisung pays for their food despite minho's protests and calls him cute while pinching his cheek when minho pouts in annoyance. yewon chuckles but doesn't say anything, her knowing eyes making the back of his neck burn. 

it's scary how easy conversation flows between them, but at this point anything that has to do with jisung scares minho.

it feels oddly normal, the way jisung steals from his plate and how minho drinks from his coffee in retaliation, avoiding a kick to the shin when he downs the last of it. 

he wonders if someone looking from the outside in would wrongly assume they do this every day. 

"you've been spending a lot of time with jisung lately," seungmin says as a form of greeting when minho finally arrives at his house.

"no i haven't,"

"sure, whatever you say." 

if minho was counting, which he's not, he'd know that he has spent more time with jisung in the past month than he has with any of his friends in the past three months. but he definitely isn't counting, so he doesn't know. it does not keep him awake at night at all. 

"how do you know when you're in love?" jisung's contact always stays at the top of his chats, a good morning and a good night text almost every day. 

"why the sudden question?" seungmin laughs.

"no reason, just curious," he waves his hand. 

"i think it depends on the person, i don't think i've ever been in love so i wouldn't know," he pauses, looking at minho with his head cocked to the side.  _ he looks like a puppy _ "have you?"

"huh?" 

"been in love," 

jisung once shared with him the lyrics for a song he was working on, it was four am and minho had been barely awake and coherent but the words in that song sounded too beautiful to be just a draft. 

"don't know, maybe." 

_ all the walls that were painted black _

_ i was stained with you and i was surprised at the first feeling i felt. _

is minho not scared or has han jisung just forcefully and innocently broken through all the walls he's put up all of these years and made himself at home within minho's chest. 

both he'd say. but also neither—minho trembles at the prospect of staying, but he also grips his sheets tight enough that it hurts when he thinks of jisung getting tired of him. 

there is no excuse anymore for all the feelings that threaten to break through his skin, making him want to burst at the seams. the fruit vodka chan sucks at making hasn't been near him in months, and the only lights that have reflected off of jisung's skin are the ones from his own house and the sunshine that warms them up in the mornings. 

how many mornings has he woken up next to jisung now? too many for his liking. but also too little. it's complicated, so he decides to put it on the list of "things to ignore until i physically can't anymore _. _ "

_ i dreamt of you _ he doesn't text jisung  _ i dreamt of your touch and your kisses and your eyes and why do you make me feel this way _ he deletes it all and responds to jisung's _ good morning doll _ an hour later. 

_ doll _ what a silly nickname that is, and yet it makes the butterflies living behind his breastbone go crazy. they flutter when it's in a text, but go frantic and wild when it comes from jisung's pretty lips and even prettier voice.

"you look pretty today, doll," jisung smiles, and minho melts against his will. 

"you are okay," but he knows there's a matching smile on his own face and his heartbeat is so loud even the people passing them by might hear it. 

minho knows too much about jisung, small pieces of his self that he's picked up from conversations he pretended not to pay attention to and late night texts that kept him awake for too long. 

the worst part is that he wants to know more, wants to keep taking and  _ taking  _ and learning about this boy that he didn't even fully know if he was real a few months ago.

jisung is  _ very  _ real, he knows that now, agonizes over it when there's nothing to do except drown himself in his own thoughts. 

he comes back home for his mom's birthday and stares at the picture of his dad in the kitchen. minho's never really looked like him, always looked and behaved more like his mother, the only thing that's truly his father's mark is the small mole on the side of his nose. and he hopes that's the only thing at all.

_ do u wanna come meet my cats next time?? _

_ can i?? rlly??? fuck yeah :D  _

"what are you smiling at?" his mom chuckles. 

"nothing," pocketing his phone he turns towards her. "so what are we doing for dinner?" 

he's laying on the roof of his building, looking up at the night sky and wishing he was one of the stars up over there, away from the bustling city and unnecessary emotions. 

"you're gonna catch a cold," jisung says as he steps in sight, his smile as warm as ever.  _ how does he do it _

"nah, i never get sick,"  _ will you take care of me if i do? _

jisung snorts, "sure," he lays next to minho, his hand easily finding minho's and intertwining their fingers together. 

"when i was little i used to be scared of heights," something twinkles in the distance. "my dad tried to help me through it but he just made it worse, but since i didn't want to make him sad i pretended like he had helped me." 

it's one of the few and far between memories he has of his dad before the man made himself scarce, it's not the nicest but is up there in the purest ones.

"are you still scared of heights?"

"yeah, but i still pretend i'm not, for some reason." 

jisung takes him on an actual real date, he knows because jisung says so as he drags him through the crowded streets and into an even more crowded fair. 

"it's an actual date this time!" he almost has to shout over all the noise, so minho just steps closer to him.

"i didn't agree to it," but he's still smiling and holding jisung's hand just a little tighter. 

"you would've anyways,"  _ not really _ .

"yeah, i would've."

it's cold, and his fingertips are freezing but he still makes jisung buy him an ice cream because he likes to be annoying like that, and maybe because jisung just seems more than content to do anything he asks.  _ that's dangerous _ , but is not like the feeling isn't mutual. just a little bit. 

lights and jisung is a recurring theme in minho's dreams and useless observations. he knows all the perfect angles in which the light makes jisung's eyes sparkle in that way that leave him a tad breathless, knows the way his skin shines golden under the sunset and is warm to the touch under the morning sun while they kiss lazily on his bed after another night that leaves minho yearning for something he doesn't dare ask for. 

now, the fairy lights around the fair illuminate them in a glow reminiscent of the one in the dreams he's dying to tell jisung about. and minho's never considered himself a romantic but he's starting to think the love poems he had to read in high school made some points.

he wakes up next to jisung and with ggyu in the middle of them, purring his little heart away and warming the space that separates them. 

_ this is too domestic _ , the butterflies fly around the room but they don't try to escape through the open window that they forgot to close last night. 

he stares at jisung's face as he sleeps, the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones, the pout on his lips and the blush on his cheeks. he traces gently the moles dotted across his face, the urge to kiss them an ever present pull inside of his chest, so he does, carefully lifts himself up on one arm and kisses them, and then his forehead and the tip of his nose and his cheek again until jisung is waking up and smiling at him with half lidded eyes.

"good morning," he whispers, reaching for something he was always scared to take. 

"good morning, doll"

**Author's Note:**

> songs quoted:  
> we've got a good thing going - lady lamb  
> navillera - gfriend  
> close - han 


End file.
